


Appreciation

by ZuviosGemini



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Apron Kink, Established Relationship, M/M, PWP, Sticky Sex, fluff turned into porn, valve eating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-10
Updated: 2014-05-10
Packaged: 2018-01-24 04:54:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1592372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZuviosGemini/pseuds/ZuviosGemini
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drift sometimes forgets how much Perceptor likes his apron.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Appreciation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Fulcrumisthebomb](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fulcrumisthebomb/gifts).



Arms wrapping around his waist startled Drift, almost making him drop the tray of energon cookies he was holding. He hadn’t even heard the door open, much less heard the mech approach him.

“You scared me.” He chuckled, feeling a nuzzle at the back of his helm.

“Apologies.” Perceptor’s smooth voice said. A kiss was pressed to Drift’s shoulder and he laughed.

“Been hanging around Swerve’s today?” He asked. He could feel the confusion in Perceptor’s field.

“No. What makes you say that?”

Drift put down his tray and turned around, keeping the larger mech’s arms around his waist.

“You’re usually only this cuddly if we’ve just ‘faced, or if you’re overcharged. I think I’d remember getting fragged today, so I assumed it was the second one.”

Perceptor frowned at him.

“Are you saying I have to be inhibited in some way in order to be affectionate?” He said flatly. Drift rolled his optics.

“You consider overload recovery to be a inhibited state, why am I not surprised. And no, I didn’t say that. I said usually.”

Perceptor was still frowning so Drift leaned in and kissed him softly.

“I’m not telling you to stop. In fact, I’d _like_ it if you were more touchy feely with me.”

In spite of the phrase being moderately foreign to him, Perceptor understood what Drift was saying and smiled, pressing a kiss to the side of his helm, giving his finial a nuzzle. Drift’s engine purred in response.

Satisfied for the moment, Drift turned back around and continued his work on the energon snacks. Perceptor’s arms remained loosely in place around his waist, supported partially by his hips.

Drift used to be very touchy about his hips. He hated when people called attention to them and often got extremely irritable about it, because dammit, he didn’t tell them to make them so curvaceous when he remodeled his frame. Then he met Perceptor, and his views on his new frame quickly changed.

The first time he had interfaced with the sniper, Perceptor had lavished him with affection, paying special attention to his hips, telling him how much he adored them, and _do you know what they do to me?_

After that, Drift didn’t mind his hips so much. In fact, he might have even grown to like them, and use them to his advantage.

As he continued forming the cookies, he shifted his weight, cocking his hip. The arms around his waist tightened, and when he reached across the table for a fresh cube of raw energon, effectively pushing his aft back into the body behind him, he got a growl and a kiss pressed between his shoulder armor.

“You’re doing that on purpose.” Perceptor grumbled. Drift straightened and looked over his shoulder at the other mech, who had buried his face in Drift’s back. The ninja bot chuckled.

“Whatever gave you that idea?” His sass got him a sharp nip on his neck cables. He jumped and spilled some of the energon, just avoiding getting it on himself.

“If you ruin my cookies,” he laughed, “you and I are gonna have a problem.”

He slipped out of Perceptor’s arms to grab a rag to clean up the mess, smiling when Perceptor made an unhappy noise. As a subconscious after thought, Drift grabbed his apron—a red one with black and white accents that he had picked up on an organic planet—and put it on.

Perceptor’s optic lit up and traveled the length of Drift’s body. The white mech grinned.

“I always forget how much you like my apron.”

Perceptor hummed at him.

“Come here.” The larger mech said. Drift crossed the room slowly, returning to his spot leaning against the table. Perceptor was pressing against him almost immediately, wrapping a servo around the back of his neck and kissing him. Drift responded easily, loving this new side of Perceptor. Not long ago, Perceptor wouldn’t even have touched him while they were in (what could be considered) a public place.

The labs were a public area basically, so when Perceptor lifted him and sat him on the table (taking care to move the tray of cookies out of the way first), Drift made a surprised noise against the other mech’s mouth, wrapping his arms around Perceptor’s shoulders. The sniper gripped Drift’s hips and pulled him to the edge of the table, locking the smaller mech’s legs around his waist. Drift leaned back and nuzzled at the side of Perceptor’s helm.

“I’ve never seen you like this.” He purred, biting at his neck cables, hearing Perceptor’s engine rumble.

“Are you enjoying it?” Perceptor asked. Drift replied by grinding forward into him, pressing his heated frame completely against Perceptor.

“Oh yes.” He chuckled, pressing a kiss to Perceptor’s sniper optic before leaning back, supporting himself on his arms. Perceptor once again looked him over completely, sneaking his fingers under the edge of the apron and up Drift’s thigh. Drift’s optics dimmed and he hummed, letting his legs shift open.

“Are you really just going to have your way with me on this table? It’s a public place, you know.” He half-expected Perceptor to back off, but instead he continued to inch his fingers under the apron until they met Drift’s hot panel. The white mech shivered.

“It’s not public anymore if I lock the door, now is it?” Perceptor said with a smirk, stroking the panel until it opened, making Drift sigh and tip his helm back. Perceptor circled his finger around the edge of Drift’s valve before pushing it inside, leaning forward and placing kisses up the length of Drift’s throat and the underside of his chin.

Drift vented slowly, feeling the finger shifting around inside him. When another finger pressed inside him, he whined and wiggled his hips, sliding closer to Perceptor. The sniper chuckled.

“I do like your apron very much. You look amazing in it, but I bet you’d look even better after you’ve overloaded with it on.”

Drift’s intake stalled and he gasped, rocking his hips up into Perceptor’s servo.

“What’s got you all riled up like this?” He asked, his fans clicking up a notch. Perceptor hummed against his neck and nibbled at the cables, making Drift whine again when he pressed a third finger inside him.

“I decided that I shouldn’t just appreciate you when we’re alone. I should appreciate you always, and right now, I wish to show you just how much I love seeing you on this table, with your apron on.”

The sliding of his fingers in and out of Drift was making the smaller mech squirm, and his arms were beginning to shake. He moaned, his hips lifting again in an effort to get Perceptor to go faster. Perceptor pushed his fingers deeper into Drift, brushing the node sitting at the back of his valve, making him jump and moan louder. When he dragged his fingers back out, he slid his palm against the node sensor sitting at the opening of Drift’s valve, making him keen.

“ _Primus_ , Perceptor.” Drift groaned, his arms giving out and sending him sprawling on his back on the table. Perceptor pulled his fingers out and lifted the apron, putting his head under it and pressing his face against Drift’s valve, sticking his glossa inside, loving the feeling of the valve clenching around it.

Drift wailed, his servo gripping the back of Perceptor’s helm and holding him still as he rode Perceptor’s face, crying out at the feeling of the wiggling glossa inside his valve. Perceptor slid his servo up Drift’s leg and grabbed his hip, digging his fingers into the struts, and Drift was overloading, his back arching and bright blue lubricant dripping down Perceptor’s face as he kept mouthing the valve, drawing more wails from his mate.

When Drift finally slumped back onto the table, shaking and making small noises, Perceptor came back out from under the apron and grabbed the rag previously used for wiping up the energon, using it to clean the lubricant his glossa couldn’t reach off his face. Drift watched him from under hooded optics, his fans still running at top speed, his chassis heaving as his vents struggled to keep air flowing through his heated systems.

“Frag, that was so hot…” Drift breathed. Perceptor smiled and leaned forward, placing gentle kisses over his stomach and nuzzling the soft fabric of the apron.

“Just like I had predicted. Beautiful with it on, even more gorgeous after you’ve overloaded in it.”

Drift gave another small shiver.

“We have got to do this again.” He said, closing his optics and humming as Perceptor used the rag to now clean him, wiping the lubricant from his thighs and the table beneath him.

“I definitely have plans to try this again in the future.” He leaned over Drift and kissed him softly.

“Perhaps I might even frag you properly with this apron on. Would you like that?”

Drift wrapped a hand around the back of his helm and grinned.

“Give me a breem or so to get myself back together and we can find out.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be cute and fluffy with Drift making cookies again in his pretty apron, but it turned into porn involving an apron kink. Oops my hand slipped.


End file.
